DiPrima
DiPrima
Jan 20, 2017

GOLDEN YEARS

Poem Body

Who first called these the golden years,
some bard still in his youth?
If he lived to be my golden age,
he’d know the woeful truth.

You get a slowness to your gait,
your memory’s not so great,
your ears start getting longer with each day.
You can’t chew, you can’t screw,
minor bumps turn black and blue.
and your hair gets grey and slowly goes away.

You lose strength and muscle mass
while adding inches to your ass,
and your belly starts to look a lot like Buddha’s.
Your skin gets thin and spotty,
you barely make it to the potty
and your manly pecs turn into saggy boobs

Your eyes start getting squinty
they’re no longer twenty/twenty,
and your hearing leaves a lot to be desired.
Your joints get sore and achy
your balance somewhat shaky
‘cause your “good-to” date has long ago expired.

Sing praises of the Golden Years?
I think I’ll take a pass.
As for me the Golden Years
can kiss my senior …. my senior …
Did I mention memory loss?

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Atlanta, GA USA, USA

Favorite Poets: Tennyson, Poe, Keats, Longfellow, Elizabeth Bishop, Frost, Wilfred Owen, Many others ...

More from this author

Comments

themoonman

I was going to say something but
plum forgot what it was ...

loved it too much, related all the
way through.

thanks for sharing

W

I can relate to this - every day. This was a very enjoyable read. Thanks for sharing.

jane210660

Another witty, fun - but horribly accurate write.
If I was being hugely technical and nit picky, I'd say the rhythm was off in one or two places, but I'm not feeling hugely technical or nit picky, so I'm not going to say it.
Enjoyed it.
Jx

alidzain

Good one! Keep on writing!

Alid